The Rise and Fall of the Phoenix

Author's Note: I do not own Jim, Blair or anyone else from the Cascade world. The Fellowship of the Golden Earth is my own creation, but as per their utopian society, I'm willing to share. This story is dedicated with all my love to Suzanne, who always inspires me in FF and in life. Happy birthday, Baby! Comments always welcome.

The man slumped in the chair looked exhausted, worried, and miserable. Being that he was in the waiting room of Cascade General Hospital, it would have been logical for a casual observer to conclude that he was keeping an anxious vigil, waiting for news of a loved one's condition. But that was not the case for Blair Sandburg. True, he had accompanied his friend there. But the bullet that had struck Jim Ellison had only given him a glancing blow and he was expected to be released after the flesh wound was treated. While Jim was being assessed, Blair had ducked into Simon Bank's room for a quick visit, reassured by the fact that the gruff captain was full of complaints. It had been a close call with a teflon coated titanium bullet that had required surgery and meant another week in the hospital, but Simon was healing well and in good spirits. Which for him, meant barking orders and grousing at his denial of flavored coffees and fine cigars. Megan Connor, also a victim of the bullet that had struck down the captain, had already been released. The inspector would have to wear a sling and would be restricted to desk duty for awhile, but she was looking forward to a full recovery.

No, it was not worry for his friends that was eating away at Blair. For once, the normally selfless Sandburg was worried about himself. It had been an extremely tough few days, charged with high emotion and little sleep and it was all starting to hit the young man full force.

"What the hell did I do?" he whispered to himself, running a hand wearily over his brow. Oh, he knew it had been the right thing and he didn't regret it; in fact he'd do it again if he had it to do over. But the ramifications of having labeled himself a fraud and trashing his academic career were starting to sink in. Everything he'd wanted, everything he'd worked for, and everything he'd earned had all been wiped out in one fell swoop. His life, at least in the academic sense, was over. "And what the hell am I going to do now?"

Something caught his attention and he glanced up at the small tv mounted from the ceiling in the corner of the room. The sound was barely audible, but he had to look away from the picture. Footage of the Major Crimes offices, ravaged by the maniac Klaus Zeller who had turned the floor into his personal shooting gallery in an attempt to kill both his longshoreman contract and his pursuer, Detective Ellison, the perpetual thorn in his side. And if they were reporting on Zeller's rampage, it was only a matter of seconds before Jim was mentioned. Then probably speculation on his supposed sentinel abilities. Blair's heart started to pound and his breathing became labored. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand it if they showed any of his damning press conference, so in desperation he left the waiting room and hurried toward the entrance doors, intent on getting some air before he erupted into a full fledged panic attack.

In his rush to get outside, he bumped into someone who was entering, knocking a shopping bag from her hands and spilling the contents on the ground.

"Oh, man, I'm really sorry," Sandburg apologized, his own problems momentarily forgotten as he bent down to help her.

"That's all right. No harm..." The girl trailed off, getting her first good look at him. "Blair?"

His eyes went to her face, seeing familiarity there but it took him a minute to place her for she looked substantially different from the last time he'd seen her.

"Judith? Is that you?"

"It used to be," she said with a big grin, her scattered belongings forgotten. "I go by the name Joy now. Blair, it is so good to see you." She emphasized her words by pulling him into a tight, warm hug. He was surprised by her greeting, but couldn't deny he enjoyed it, especially after the week he'd been having.

"You, too," he agreed when she let him go. "It's been... what? About a year? You left Rainier to join up with that..." He stopped himself before he could say the word "cult".

"The Fellowship of the Golden Earth," she supplied for him. "We're a society of love and peace and philanthropy. And as close as you can get to utopia on earth."

"Well, it must be working for you," Blair told her. "You look great."

And he meant it. They'd never been particularly close at Rainier, but their respective circles had overlapped from time to time and they'd grown to be casual friends through a few common interests. As a graduate student of environmental engineering, Judith had been the very definition of an uptight preppy. So it was a complete shock to everyone who knew her, including Blair, when she decided to quit school and largely abandon her friends to join up with a pseudo-religious society. Nobody knew anything about the organization, but they all were assured that it must be a cult if it could get someone as strait-laced as Judith to surrender to them. Blair, usually not one to judge, just wished her well and hoped she found what she was looking for. Apparently she had, for where Judith had been a little repressed and high-strung, Joy was relaxed, easy going, and as far as Blair could tell, happy.

"Thank you," she said, in response to his compliment. But then her smile faded as she studied him. "You look.. upset." She frowned, then her eyes went wide as if she just remembered they were at a hospital. "I'm sorry. Are you here with someone? Or maybe you....?"

"No, no," Blair assured her. "I mean, I brought my friend here but he'll be fine." She was still studying him, almost as if she could read the turbulent thoughts behind his eyes, and he squirmed a bit under her scrutiny and decided to change the subject. "But what about you? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm just dropping a few things off for the Children's Ward," she explained, suddenly remembering the items scattered about her feet and kneeling down to retrieve them. Blair helped, collecting various stuffed animals and wooden toys and depositing them back into her shopping bag.

"Part of your philanthropy?" he asked, but not in a mocking way.

"Yes." She stood up, tucking a wisp of wavy brown hair behind her ear. "We don't have a lot to give, but sometimes the small things are the ones that are most appreciated."

Blair nodded in agreement and picked up the bag.

"I don't have a lot to give, but I can carry this for you," he grinned, teasing her slightly.

"That would be most appreciated," she grinned back, picking up her other bag.

Sandburg walked with her to the nurse's station outside the Children's Ward where Joy was greeted warmly and her bags of toys were gratefully accepted. Once that chore was done, Blair found he was loathe to part ways with the girl for her company was proving to be a much needed distraction, so he invited her to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. Although once they were seated at a table with steaming mugs in front of them, he began to regret his impulsive invitation.

"So, how's everything at Rainier?" she asked conversationally, taking a sip of her brew.

"You mean you don't know?" Blair asked tightly.

"Know what?"

"It's been all over the news all day."

"I'm afraid I don't see much television," she explained.

It was Blair's turn to scrutinize her, but his suspicion melted when he saw the innocence in her eyes and realized she was telling the truth, not pouring salt into his gaping wound.

"It's a long story," he sighed, gripping his own mug tightly. "Let's just say I'm not at Rainier anymore."

"I'm sorry," Joy said sympathetically, for she could see that it wasn't by choice. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I can't," Blair whispered painfully. Oh, he wanted to. Talking was always how he dealt with things. But he'd sacrificed everything to protect Jim's secret, and he couldn't spill the beans now. Not even to a friend under confidence.

She nodded in understanding, and they instead chitchatted about mundane things while they finished their coffee. Then Joy announced she had to be going and Blair figured Jim would be about ready anyway, so they said their goodbyes.

"Listen, Blair," Joy began as she reached into her pocket, "The Fellowship has a center downtown. Here's the address." She handed him a colorful business card. "I'll be there all week if you need someone to talk to. Or if you just need a place to hang out for awhile. We don't have any tvs there," she added with a wink.

"Thanks." Sandburg took the card and slipped it into the pocket of his leather jacket. "I appreciate that."

"I'm glad I ran into you." Joy enveloped him into another warm hug, and Blair held onto her, soaking up the comfort she offered.

"Me, too," he murmured in her ear. And was a little surprised to realize just how much he meant it.

A familiar face greeted Sandburg as he entered the waiting room.

"Brown? What are you doing here?" he asked anxiously. "Is Rafe all right?"

"He's fine. Just a couple of stitches," the detective replied, referring to the minor head laceration his partner had gotten from flying glass as Zeller shot up the station. "He already went home with a black and white. We've got another problem."

"What?"

"There's a bunch of reporters outside."

"What do they want?" Blair asked, his blood running cold.

"What do you think they want, Sandburg?" Brown said tiredly, but without venom. "At the very least they want an interview with Jim for stopping Zeller. At most..."

"They want the sentinel," Sandburg finished weakly.

"Well, they aren't going to get him. Not tonight, anyway," Brown stated firmly. "Dills is standing by with the van. Joel's in with Ellison now and the two of us are going to make sure you both get out of here, all right?"

"Thanks, Henry," Blair said quietly, but gratefully.

"Jim's been discharged. Go on, they're waiting for you. Room three."

Sandburg pushed his way through the double doors that led into the corridor of the emergency ward. He stopped outside of the treatment room with the "3" on the door and knocked gently before letting himself in. Jim was sitting up on the bed, and glared at him as he approached.

"Where have you been?" he growled. "I've been waiting for you for an hour."

Blair glanced over at Joel, who mouthed the word "painkillers" and mimicked a needle injection in his arm. Sighing, realizing that a loopy sentinel was his burden to bear for the night, Sandburg fought for patience.

"I'm sorry, Jim," he said calmly. "I just went to get some coffee."

"With a girl," Ellison accused, wrinkling up his nose. "I can smell perfume on you."

"I think I'll just go find the nurse and tell her we're ready for that wheelchair," Taggart announced, excusing himself gracefully.

"Who was she?" Jim pressed.

"Just an old friend," Blair told him. "Now shut up and quit broadcasting, all right? The wrong people could be listening and I didn't go through that press conference just so you could get high and confirm your abilities for the world."

In the blink of an eye, the sentinel's mood switched from belligerence to melancholic nostalgia.

"You always look out for me, Chief. No matter what happens or what I do, you always have my back. You think I don�t see it, but I do. I know it."

"Great, Jim. Here's your coat. Come on, I'll help you."

Blair managed to get one arm in the sleeve before the sentinel suddenly grabbed him by the lapels of his own jacket.

"What would I do without you?" Ellison demanded harshly. "I love you, man!"

"Yeah, Jim, I love you, too," Sandburg replied, grinning at his friend and thinking how mortified the sentinel would be in the morning if he remembered any of this conversation. "But I would love you more if you would put your coat on so we could go."

Ellison sagged then, allowing Blair to finish dressing him.

"I don't feel so good, Chief," he whispered.

"I know, Jim," Blair told him sympathetically, rubbing a gentle hand along his back. "Let's just get you home, ok? You'll feel better after you get some sleep."

When the nurse arrived with the wheelchair, Jim compliantly allowed himself to be helped into it and was silent as he was wheeled to the hospital doors. Brown quietly radioed Dills to let him know they were coming out and to be ready to pull up with the van. Then he and Taggart positioned themselves in front of Jim and Blair, creating an imposing wall of defense.

"Chief, what's going on?" Ellison asked dazedly.

"Jim, dial everything down and just hang onto me, all right?" Blair whispered to him as the doors opened. He took his friend's weight, not trusting his ability with his new cane in his compromised condition, and took a deep breath as he led him out into the night. Flashbulbs began popping and voices were yelling, but the two burly detectives shielded the sentinel and his guide from the crush of the press, granting them safe passage to the curb where Dills was waiting with the van. As they drove away from the melee, Jim was quiet. But Blair didn't miss the clenched jaw that no painkiller could erase.

In the morning, after a good narcotics-induced sleep, Jim was back in charge of his faculties. Blair wanted to kid him about how much he remembered from the night before, but neither of them were in much of a joking mood. Besides, Sandburg figured that his friend remembered more than he wanted to, judging by the way he refused to even touch his prescription meds and stuck steadfastly to over the counter pills for his pain relief. Naomi took it upon herself to care for the patient, doting on him relentlessly, probably in an effort to make up for some of the damage she'd caused. But it wasn't a hard task. Jim napped away a good portion of the day, and when he was awake he was content to relax on the sofa watching tv, although he stuck to ESPN or the movie channels for the local stations were still running stories about things that no one in the loft was eager to discuss. For those same reasons, they had turned off the ringer on the phone, although Jim did get a call on his cell that was important enough to send him hobbling off to the balcony so he could speak privately. When he came back inside he had a slightly smug look to him, but he didn't elaborate and Blair didn't ask. It wasn't a day for conversation. It was a day of rest, of recuperation, and of avoidance.

Unlike the following day, when the luxury of avoidance ran out for Sandburg. But that had never been his style anyway, so under the guise of running errands he left the loft and drove over to Rainier to clean out his office. And while he knew he deserved it, he was still unprepared for the hostility that greeted him. Peers that he passed in the hallways either shunned him outright or shot him hostile glares. He supposed he couldn't blame them. As far as they knew, he lied. Wrote a fraudulent thesis. About the worst crime he could have committed, in their eyes. He'd betrayed them, betrayed their institution, their profession, and everything they stood for. And there was no doubt, for he'd admitted it, the confession spewing from his own mouth in front of the lights and cameras for the world to see. But still, he'd been a part of Rainier for fifteen years. It seemed like his so called friends would have known him better than that after such a long time. He would have thought at least one or two would have bothered to talk to him, find out what really happened. But instead he was being treated like a pariah. He supposed he should be grateful they were allowing him to get in and out without stoning him.

It didn't take long for him to clean out his office. Most of the clutter belonged to the university, and Blair was happy to let them come in and sort it all out and reassign it. So he just gathered up his books and his journals, his rolodex and a few personal artifacts. A simple task, and one that broke his heart. Compounded by the fact that all he had to show for fifteen years of hard work was a couple of boxes of stuff. He wanted nothing more than to just flee his place of exile, but Chancellor Edwards met him outside of Hargrove Hall with a security officer, demanding to inspect his boxes to ensure he wasn't taking anything that belonged to the university. Blair complied, not having any other choice. He had nothing to hide, but he was humiliated as his stuff was dumped out and pawed through, and then incensed as the Chancellor expressed doubt as to the ownership of some of the artifacts and announced they would have to be confiscated until he could prove they were his.

But Sidney Oldham had caught wind of what was going on and came to intervene. He looked over the scattered possessions and ruled that none of them were university property. Blair was fairly certain he couldn't be sure of that one way or the other, for after all the department had scores of artifacts and keeping track of them all without an inventory list was impossible. No, the doctor was actually giving the fraud the benefit of the doubt. The Chancellor fumed, for she was a vindictive woman and looking for the opportunity to punish Blair further for his embarrassment of Rainier which she would have to answer for, but she knew she couldn't argue with the head of the anthropology department. Grudgingly, she gave Blair permission to take his boxes and leave.

Grabbing one of the boxes, Sandburg hurried to his car and threw it in the trunk, unaware that he was being followed. When he turned, he found Dr. Oldham behind him with his other box.

"Thanks, Sidney," Blair said tightly, meaning for more than just the help with his stuff.

"You're welcome," the old professor said sadly. "I'm sorry it had to end like this, Blair."

"Yeah, me, too." Sandburg swiped a hand quickly over his eyes and pressed the keys to his office into the hand of his former colleague. "I have to go. Take care."

"You, too," the doctor murmured, watching as his most promising student fairly leapt behind the wheel in his haste to escape.

Blair took off, but just before he reached the main road that led away from Rainier, he pulled off to the side and turned around for one last look at the campus.

"I should have gone to Borneo," he muttered, recalling Dr. Eli Stoddard's offer of a lifetime to assist in his field project. But he'd turned it down in order to stay with Jim and work on their project. In hindsight, if he'd gone he wouldn't be in this mess now. He'd still have a career. A rather promising one with such a significant field study under his belt. But, no sense dwelling on it now. There was no changing the past. All he could do was try to salvage the future, if he could only figure out how. His life had no direction, no purpose. And before he could find a new one, he was going to have to sever all the ties to the old one, and with everyone who knew him as a fraud. Which meant he had one more desk to clean out.

Sandburg drove to the station and took the elevator up seven flights to the Major Crimes Unit. He got a few questioning looks on the way, but at least he was spared the open hostility he'd received at the university. And he was a little surprised at how far the cleanup had progressed when he stepped off the elevator. All the glass had yet to be replaced, but the debris was all gone and a lot of the damaged furniture had been exchanged. It didn't look like the site of a murderous rampage, for which Blair was grateful. That wasn't how he wanted to remember it.

The place was mostly empty. Not surprising since half the staff was on the injured roster. But Blair was grateful for that as well. It gave him the opportunity for a candid goodbye without the burden of suspicious or speculative eyes on him. So he wandered around, stopping at the desks and losing himself in memories, both good and bad. Then he let himself into Simon's office, feeling a great weight settling on his shoulders and into his gut. He'd had his ass chewed plenty of times in that office, but Banks was still one of the best men he'd ever known and he was going to miss being summoned in there by his name being bellowed out over the bullpen. He was going to miss being there, period. His role on the team was unofficial, but he knew he'd been accepted and appreciated regardless and he'd gotten a lot of satisfaction from the part he'd played, feeling like he was doing some good and making a difference. But all that was over now.

"Hey, Blair. What you up to, man?"

Sandburg startled slightly, not having heard Taggart come in.

"I'm taking a last look around," he admitted, hoping he wasn't about to be accused of stealing from the captain's office.

"Last look?" Joel repeated in confusion. "You going somewhere?"

"Well, yeah. I cleaned out my desk over at Rainier. I thought I'd do the same thing here. I'm a fraud, man." It hurt to say, even if it wasn't true. "I don't think Simon's going to want me hanging around."

"Sandburg! That is not your office!"

For a second he thought he was hallucinating that booming voice, but as he glanced out into the bullpen he saw Simon in a wheelchair, being pushed by Rafe and followed by Jim, Brown, Megan, and his mother.

"Hey, Simon, they let you out?" Blair inquired, relieved to see him looking well, as he came out of the office to meet them.

"Nah, they threw him out," Jim joked.

"They didn't throw me out," Banks protested. "They said I was too cantankerous."

"You? No," Ellison teased, pinching his captain on the cheek and making Sandburg wonder if he was back on the painkillers.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" he asked as Naomi stepped forward to hug him.

"I'd never miss this occasion, darling," she beamed brightly.

"No, it's great," Sandburg agreed, somewhat perplexedly. "Everybody's safe and out and happy." Reason to celebrate, sure. But no reason for everyone to be surrounding him, grinning like Cheshire cats. How did they even know he was there...?

"That's not exactly why we asked your mom here," Simon explained. "I understand you gave up your job at the university and I saw you over there in my office. So we decided you needed to do something to keep you under control."

"You're finished in this department, Chief," Ellison told him somberly.

Blair knew it. He'd been expecting it. But hearing the words were worse than a knife in the heart.

"Yeah, well," he murmured, trying to hold it together, "I sort of... Well, I figured that."

"As an observer," Jim continued, his face splitting into a broad smile as he tossed something at his friend. Blair caught it and examined the leather cover.

"This is.. What is this?" Sandburg opened it to find a bright gold shield gleaming at him. "This is a detective badge. What's going on?" he asked, thoroughly confused. "I don't deserve this."

"No, you don't," Simon agreed forcefully, yanking the badge from his hands. "At least not until you go to the Police Academy and complete firearms training." The captain gentled his tone, letting his fondness for his unconventional observer shine through. "And if you do, Detective Ellison is looking for a permanent, official partner."

Blair looked up at his sentinel who had limped over to stand next to him, still sporting that stupid grin.

"Uh, yeah?" Sandburg stammered. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a joke. A very cruel one that he would never forgive them for, but as he gazed up at Ellison and read the sincerity in his often veiled blue eyes, Blair knew they were serious. And that fact almost overwhelmed him. People he'd worked with for fifteen years had all turned their backs on him, treated him like garbage. Like a worthless, lying, fraud. But these people... these officers he'd had the honor of getting to know over the past three years were welcoming him into their ranks. Inviting him to be one of them. Giving him a second chance. It was too much to process and he didn't know what to say so he went for the humorous response. "Does this mean a paycheck?"

"Can you say 'back rent'?" Jim bantered back. But then he grew serious, earnest in his urging. "Come on, what do you say?"

"Say something, Sandy," Megan cajoled.

"I'm still not cutting my hair," Blair declared soberly, although he was unable to stop the grin from creeping across his face. "I'm not going to do it."

"That's what you think," Jim chuckled as he hooked his former and future partner with his cane and hauled him closer, wrapping a strong arm around him and giving him some affectionate noogies. "They're going to love you at the Academy. Captain, I'm going to make a little Blairskin rug for you here."

"You're not going to scalp me!" Sandburg protested vehemently, with gusto, although inside he started to feel the weight lifting. Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all, and maybe his life still had direction and purpose. A future of which he could be proud, getting the criminals off the streets and protecting the innocent, all while working alongside the greatest group of people he had ever met.

But that glimmer of hope proved to be a fleeting one as Blair left the station with Jim and Naomi. Outside they were greeted by a handful of reporters, all shouting questions and demanding answers. Most of the media apparently had bought the fraud story and had dropped the whole thing after the final Zeller showdown, and a few others had gotten bored with it and had moved on. But a few, mostly local press, had kept on the story and seemed intent on hounding the detective and the former grad student, looking for either a firm confirmation or denial about the so-called sentinel, either through exclusive interviews or a caught-in-the-act moment. By the time they reached the truck, Naomi was in tears and Jim was noticeably tense, his previous jovial mood destroyed. And the fact that he chose to ride in the truck with Naomi as opposed to in his new partner's car spoke volumes to Cascade's finest's newest recruit.

It was another sleepless night for Blair, during which he did a lot of thinking. And long after he came to his conclusions, he lay in bed, wondering how on earth he was ever going to tell Jim he couldn't become cop and would never be his official partner. In the morning he tried to just take the bull by the horns and get it over with, but as he had anticipated, the detective did not take the news well. And when he lashed out in anger, Sandburg became angry and defensive himself.

"Jim, you need to wake up and join reality," he argued. "There is no way this is ever going to fly. As long as you and I keep working together, those vultures in the media are always going to wonder why and they are never going to stop chasing us until they figure it out. I've already drawn enough heat down on you from people who have suspected something was up over the last few years. We don't need to add fuel to the fire."

"I can handle the fire, Chief," Ellison snapped.

"No, you can't," Blair shot back. "You've never been comfortable in the spotlight and that's not going to change. But let's say that the scandal does die down. I'm still a self-admitted fraud, remember? You think some lawyer isn't going to drag that into the light any time I tried to testify? Any arrests I made would just get thrown out and you know that."

"We can find some way to work around it."

"No, we can't," Sandburg said sadly, but firmly. "It was a pipe dream, Jim. That's all."

"Where are you going?" Ellison demanded as his roommate turned and headed out of the kitchen where they'd been fighting.

"To get dressed," Blair tossed over his shoulder. "Naomi will be back from breakfast any minute and I have to take her to the airport."

"We need to discuss this," the sentinel insisted.

"There's nothing to discuss, Jim. My mind's made up."

Blue eyes met blue eyes, one pair sad but accepting. The other growing cold and hard.

"Fine," Ellison spat, ice in his voice.

"Jim," Blair sighed, wanting to placate him somehow.

"No, forget it. Do whatever the hell you want, Chief. I don't give a damn," the sentinel said brusquely, brushing past his guide roughly and limping up the stairs to the loft.

"Fine," Sandburg echoed wearily as he turned and headed for the shower.

Naomi Sandburg hugged her son tightly and kissed his cheek before she disappeared through the gate to board the plane to California. She'd stayed long enough to see her ghastly mistake get more or less resolved, and then she couldn't get out of there fast enough. Blair suspected she didn't even want to go to California, but that it was just the quickest ticket out of town. He sighed, conjuring to mind the image of his mother beaming with pride when he was offered the detective badge. She was once repulsed to think of him working with the pigs, even in an unofficial capacity. But that had taken a backseat to her desperate need to see her mistake fixed and her son happy. Well, he wasn't happy and nothing was fixed, but he didn't let on to his mother and let her go off unaware. She'd never done well with drama and it was just easier to let her live in denial.

After leaving the airport, Blair decided to swing by Simon's house, wanting to tell him in person about his decision to pass on the academy. After all the man had done for him, he at least owed him the courtesy of an explanation. Banks welcomed him in, seemingly eager for company.

"How are you feeling?" Blair asked as he made himself comfortable in the living room.

"Bored as hell," Simon replied. "Hey, you want to play some cards?"

"Maybe later," Sandburg demurred. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to drop by and talk to you about something."

"Sandburg, if this is about some reprieve to avoid the academy haircut, I'm afraid my hands are tied."

"That's the thing, Simon," Blair said uncomfortably. "I'm not going to be enrolling in the academy."

"Really." The captain gazed evenly at him, silent for long moments but there was no anger in his eyes. "Listen, Blair, I know we sprang this whole idea on you and maybe it wasn't the best way to go about it. If you want to think about it for awhile or if you need a little time to get used to the idea..."

"No, Simon, I don't need any more time. Don't get me wrong. This is not about whether or not I want to become a cop. I enjoyed being a part of your team and I'm truly honored that you would want me to continue, after everything that's happened."

"Of course I want you to continue," Banks told him gruffly. "You did good work for me. Probably better than half of my paid staff."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"So what's the problem?"

"Logistics, I guess. It's just not going to work out."

"In what way?"

"In the way that the reporters are never going to leave Jim alone as long as I'm still working with him. And in the way that a self professed fraud is never going to be taken seriously in law enforcement. There's just too many land mines in the way."

"Land mines can be diffused, Blair," the captain reminded him.

"Not without a lot of time and effort from the people around them," Blair pointed out. "And I'm just not sure everyone involved is up for that kind of commitment, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," Simon said slowly, clearly reading between the lines that Sandburg felt like Jim was the one not up for the commitment. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

"No." Blair shook his head slightly, then shoved the hair out of his face almost vehemently. "Hell, I'm sorry to have to do this to you, Simon. I know you probably had to pull a lot of strings to get me in..."

"Hey, don't worry about that," Banks commanded sharply. "Just worry about yourself, all right? And do whatever it is you think is going to be best for you in the long run. Just know that the offer's always open, if you ever happen to reconsider."

"Thank you, Simon," Blair told him gratefully. For his offer, for his encouragement, for his support, and mostly for reacting with understanding as opposed to anger.

"You're welcome. Now, are you sure I can't interest you in some cards?"

"Next time," Sandburg promised. His heart wasn't in it, but he also knew the captain was still very weak and tired rapidly, no matter how much he tried to play it off. So deciding to bail and leave the recuperating man to rest, Blair said his farewells and let himself out of the house.

But sitting idly in his car outside in the street, Sandburg was filled with a sudden loathing to go home and deal with his roommate's cold shoulder. But Rainier and the police station and Jim had pretty much filled up his life over the past three years, and with all of them out of the question he wasn't sure where to go. Digging into his jacket pocket, Blair pulled out the card that Joy had given him a few days ago at the hospital. The address wasn't immediately familiar, but he vaguely knew the area and thought he could find the street. It seemed as good a place as any, so he fired up the Volvo and put it in gear, setting a course toward the temple of the Fellowship of the Golden Earth.

"Most of our meetings take place in the main room, but we have these rooms here for activities on a smaller scale," Joy explained as she continued her tour of the large building. "In fact, one of the things we use them for is our tutoring program."

"What's that?" Blair asked.

"Homework help for the disadvantaged kids in the neighborhood," she replied. "Or anyone else that needs it. You wouldn't be interested, would you?"

"Me?"

"Absolutely. We could really use someone with your education. And you know you'd be great at it. You were always a natural teacher."

"I don't know, Joy," Blair answered softly. "I don't really think I'm in a position to commit to anything right now."

"Blair, I hate to see you looking so sad," she told him gently. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"I appreciate the offer, but this is something I just have to work through on my own."

"Well, maybe a change of scenery would help" she suggested. "We have a camp a few miles north of town and some of us are going up there tomorrow for the weekend. You'd be welcome to come, if you'd like. It's a nice, quiet place to think and clear your head."

"That actually really does sound tempting," Sandburg said. "But I can't. My friend's got a bad leg and I need to stick around to help him out."

"Well, the bus leaves tomorrow at noon, if you change your mind." Joy linked her arm through his and started leading him down the hallway. "Come on. I'll show you the art room."

"Hey," Blair greeted his roommate as he entered the loft and spied the detective sitting on the sofa. "Did you eat yet?" There was no response, so Sandburg shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up before moving into the living room. "How's the leg? Need anything for the pain?" An almost imperceptible shake of the head. "You know, you really should have that elevated..."

"Damn it, Sandburg, will you just lay the hell off?" Ellison struggled to his feet, turning off the tv and slamming the remote down to the sofa so hard that it bounced off and hit the floor with enough force to shake the cover loose and send batteries rolling across the floor.

Blair watched helplessly as his roommate headed for the loft, favoring his injured leg but stomping up the stairs all the same.

"What did I do?" he muttered to himself as a wave of exhaustion swept over him. He hadn't eaten much that day, but at that point he decided to forgo dinner in favor of some much needed sleep so he headed off to his room under the stairs. He had a lot on his mind, but fatigue overcame him and for the first time that week Blair quickly dropped off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The ringing phone was a wake up call for Sandburg in the morning, as it was something he hadn't heard in the loft for a few days. Yawning, he glanced at his clock and was surprised to see how late it was. Getting up, he heard Jim on the phone in the kitchen as he stumbled to the bathroom, but when he emerged the conversation had ended.

"You turned the ringer back on, huh?" Blair remarked as he made a beeline for the coffeepot. No response. "So who was on the phone?" Still no response, and Sandburg glared in exasperation at his roommate's back. "Just let me know when you're talking to me again, all right, Jim? Until then I won't waste my breath."

"Good."

Blair had been about to head back to his room, but at that word he turned back around, setting his mug down on the kitchen island.

"Jim, I refuse to live like this, man. So whatever bug you have up your ass, you need to get over it."

"How can I get over it?" the detective exploded as he whirled around to face the younger man. "When they're digging up people from my past to confirm that I'm a sentinel!"

"What are you talking about?"

"A segment on the news last night," Jim explained angrily. "Some reporter's been going through my arrest record and interviewing guys I've put away who are swearing that they saw me using enhanced senses during their arrests."

"All right, that's bad," Blair agreed. "But a bunch of cons aren't really a reliable source. You just need to have a little patience, Jim. Those media jackals have short attention spans. After a few days of not getting anywhere, they're going to drop you as old news and move on to the next big scandal."

"And what if they don't?"

"They will," Sandburg assured him. "Especially if I stay out of the picture. See, this is a prime example of why I can't go the Academy."

"Yeah, it's real easy for you, Chief," Ellison snapped. "You know, I went to a lot of trouble to arrange that deal..."

"God, Jim," Blair interrupted in frustration, "you always make everything all about you."

"It IS about me," the sentinel insisted.

"Yeah, it's about you coming up with a very simple solution to a very complex problem. Something that suited your needs at the time and you didn't even bother to ask me how I felt about becoming a cop, just assumed I'd jump at it because that's what you wanted me to do. And now you're pissed off because you didn't get your way and you're taking it out on me!"

"Well, who should I take it out on, Sandburg?" Ellison shouted. "It's your fault my life got turned upside down in the first place! If I wanted to do things my way I would have kicked your ass to the curb and turned my back on this sentinel crap, but instead I tried to throw you a bone so we could fix things, only to have you throw it back in my face. So why shouldn't I be pissed off?"

"You have every right to be pissed off, but right now you're looking at me like..." Blair trailed off, shivering slightly at the raw fury in his friend's eyes that was almost palpable from across the room. "Look, man, if you want me to move out, just say it."

"I didn't think I had to," Jim said coldly. "The sentinel project is over and you're not going to the Academy, so what possible reason would you have for sticking around here?"

Sandburg stared back at his roommate for long moments, drinking in the animosity reflected back at him.

"None, I guess," he finally whispered as he turned and fled to his room.

When he came out about a half hour later, Ellison was standing in front of the balcony doors, staring out at the bay with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"You know, I tagged along with you for three years," Blair began. "And somewhere along the line I managed to convince myself that I was invaluable to you. So I guess I'm not one to be lecturing people about living in reality." Sandburg moved toward the door and took his jacket down from the hook, slipping it on as he continued. "I'm going away for the weekend with some friends. I'll be back late Sunday night, and then first thing Monday morning I'll start looking for an apartment."

Blair slung his backpack over his shoulder and opened the door, but he hesitated as he stepped out into the hallway.

"You should have let me die, Jim," he said quietly. The sentinel's head whirled around to fix a hooded gaze on him. "That day at the fountain, you should have just let me go. Your life would have been so much easier and uncomplicated. I mean, why go through all that to bring me back if you're just going to look at me now with hate?"

The muscles in Ellison's jaw twitched, but he said nothing, which was answer enough as far as Sandburg was concerned.

"See ya," the younger man murmured as he closed the door gently behind him.

"No," Blair complained, resisting the girl as she tried to pull him up from the chair he'd just collapsed in. "I can't do this anymore, Joy. It's 2:00 in the morning and I'm wiped out."

He'd met the bus outside of the temple and spent an hour bouncing on bumpy, dirt roads, singing along with a variety of songs, including the maddingly infectious "Don't Worry, Be Happy" more than once, until they'd finally reached the true home of the Fellowship of the Golden Earth. He'd been greeted warmly and made to feel very welcome, but from the moment he stepped off the bus he'd been ushered from one activity to another. Tours of the grounds and the facilities, meetings, a meditation session, and dinner, all culminating in a very energetic singalong/dancealong party that was showing no signs of slowing down.

"Aren't you having fun?" Joy teased him, giving him a playful nudge in the side.

"I don't know," Sandburg told her wearily. "I haven't had a minute to catch my breath or process anything yet."

"I know, it can be a little overwhelming at first," she agreed. "But you'll get used to it."

"Well, maybe I can just get used to it sitting down for awhile, in this chair," Blair hinted.

"Nope, no time for that now. Merwan wants to see you."

"Merwan?" Sandburg recalled the man introducing himself at dinner as the spiritual leader of the Fellowship, but he'd been too far in the back and too hungry to pay much attention. "He wants to see me now?"

"Yes, so let's not keep him waiting."

"All right," Blair grumbled, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "But this isn't the nice, quiet place you promised me."

"It will be," Joy told him, adding mysteriously, "if you want it to."

She led him out of the building into the cold night air, taking him across the way to a sturdy cabin. Knocking gently and receiving an invitation to enter, she opened the door, shoved Blair inside, and then closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the enigmatic leader.

"Greetings, Blair." The tall man came forward and ignored his outstretched hand, choosing instead to embrace him. It was a little weird, but it seemed genuine. "You are welcome here."

"Thank you," Sandburg said as he followed the man's lead and sat opposite him in a well worn but still comfortable stuffed chair.

"I'm sure you know, but I believe in proper introductions. I am Merwan."

"After Meher Baba?" Blair inquired, accepting a glass of what appeared to be fruit punch.

"You are well learned, Blair," the man told him, impressed by his knowledge of the reference.

"I'm an anthropologist," Sandburg explained. "Well learned in the field of cultures and civilizations. So, I'm assuming you took Baba's real name in tribute. Do you emulate him as well?"

"We follow many of his teachings," Merwan answered. "We believe in love and understanding and selfless service, but also nurture the need for fun and happiness. He is the one who coined the phrase 'don't worry, be happy', which we've adopted as one of our creeds."

"Yeah, I noticed," Blair said dryly, having heard the song several more times since his arrival and finding it increasingly obnoxious. He thought about suggesting the addition of 'Baba O'Riley' to the tribute song list for a little variety, but then dismissed the idea, realizing 'teenage wasteland' probably wasn't the best creed for a utopic society.

"However, unlike Baba, I don't believe that I am an incarnation of god," Merwan continued. "I don't consider myself special, Blair, no more so than anyone else here. I handle the business aspects of our society and organize the activities which earns me the title of leader, but I follow the same rules as everybody else and I have nothing more than they do, apart from a small office back at the temple. You don't believe me, do you? You think I must be getting something more out of all this?"

"I study cultures," Blair said, almost apologetically. "And I've studied other 'societies' that seem to be a lot similar to this one."

"In what way?" Merwan pressed, more amused than annoyed.

"Spin doctors who make it out to be paradise on earth," Sandburg recounted. "Love bombing the new recruits and renaming them. Vegetarian diet, devoid of protein, and sleep deprivation to make the mind more susceptible. Single, charismatic leader."

The man laughed loudly.

"I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"But can you deny that it's true?"

"It's all true," Merwan conceded. "But that doesn't make us some sort of mind control cult. Your time with the police department has made you cynical and suspicious, Blair."

"What do you know about that?" Sandburg demanded, paling slightly.

"I know all about it," the man shrugged. "I have a computer to manage our finances and I keep up with the news online. I read your story."

"And?"

"And, nothing. Whatever happened in the past is your own business and it doesn't matter to me or to anyone else here. We live simple, uncomplicated lives, Blair. Our goal as a society is to live in peace and harmony, share what we have, replace hate and loneliness with love and happiness, and to try and make the world a better place. If you would like to be a part of that, we would love to have you with us. If you decide that's not for you, you're always free to leave. I'd only ask that you go quietly and not try to interfere with those who want to be here. But if you choose to stay, all that we care about is who you are now and what you do while you're here. The past is of no consequence to any of us."

"That's quite an offer," Blair said finally as he rose up from the chair. "I'll give it some thought. Maybe tomorrow when my brain is functioning again."

"I can see you're still not sure what to make of us," Merwan concluded with a chuckle as he also rose and began walking his guest to the door. "By all means, sleep on it tonight. Just come at the next few days with an open mind and your heart will lead you to the truth. Oh, and for the record, Blair," the man continued, leaning out the cabin door, "Most of our members prefer a vegetarian diet and we only eat the food we grow up here. Taking on a new name isn't mandatory but many followers like the symbolism of what it represents. We also fill up the days with activities because the members enjoy it, but don't worry. You're only here for the weekend. I don't think two days of no meat and little sleep is going to be enough for us to brainwash you."

Blair grinned, a bit sheepishly.

"No, I suppose not. Good night, Merwan."

"Good night, Blair. Peace and love of the earth be with you."

Sandburg looked up at Fawn, who was helming the group session on inner pain and loneliness.

"Um, no. No, thanks."

"Why not?" the motherly woman pressed. "This is a safe environment. There's no judging here. We're all here to support you."

"I know, it's just..." he trailed off, glancing around the circle of faces. A girl molested for years by her father. A guy who'd been tossed out on the street when he was eleven. Another boy verbally abused to the point where he'd tried to take his own life. And a girl whose father had actually tried to kill her in a fit of crack induced insanity. Blair felt like his own problems were piddley in comparison.

"Blair, we all carry pain around in our hearts," Fawn told him. "The only way to let it go is to share it and release it. You can release it to us. We'll help heal you."

"Please," Joy begged in a soft whisper, taking his hand and squeezing it between her own. "It hurts me to see you like this, Blair. Please, just let us help you."

He couldn't resist that, and nodded his acquiescence. But as he glanced around the sea of waiting faces again, the words seemed to fail him.

"I don't know where to start," he murmured.

"Let's start with loneliness," Fawn suggested. "Do you get lonely, Blair?"

"Well, sure. Everyone does, sometimes, right?"

"What do you do when you feel that way? Do you have someone in your life to turn to? Someone to offer you unconditional love?"

Sandburg opened his mouth, ready to say, "of course I do." But he hesitated, forcing himself to really think about the question and take a good, hard look at his life. Finally he took a deep breath, looking up and meeting Fawn's caring eyes.

"No. No, I guess I don't. Not anymore."

"But you used to. What happened?"

"Well, it's a long story," Blair sighed. "The short version is that I made this mistake. It was a doozy, granted, but because of that most of my friends turned against me. I never had a father, and my mother... well, I know she loves me. But it seems like she loves me when it's convenient for her, as opposed to when I really need her. And then Jim..."

"And who is he?" Fawn encouraged when he fell silent.

"He is... was, my best friend," Sandburg whispered. "But that relationship is over now."

"Are you sure about that?" one of the other members interjected. "There's no way to patch things up?"

"I don't think so," Blair said sadly, shaking his head. "He made it pretty clear he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"And how do you feel about that?" Fawn asked gently.

"Hurt," he answered. "Miserable. Guilty. And I guess, angry. I mean the thing is, something happened. I can't go into the details, but it was big. It wasn't my doing, but as a result I was offered everything I could have ever asked for. Everything I had spent my life working for was about to culminate in this massive payday. Financially, but even more than that, my work was about to be validated beyond my wildest dreams. I had the brass ring, but if I grabbed it, that would mean hurting my friend. So I gave it all up. Sacrificed everything for him. And then in the end he still pushed me away. So I gave it all up for nothing. And that's what I have now. No friends, no career, no life. And no sen... No Jim."

"You don't have 'nothing', Blair," Fawn assured him. "You have us. Anyone can see you're a good person. One mistake, no matter how huge, can't define you or take away from the good you've done in your life. You are truly a beautiful soul, a spirit of the earth. So let your pain go. Forgive yourself, release your pain, and embrace the unconditional love that we offer."

Sandburg looked around the group, amazed to see them all regarding him with sympathy. It didn't matter that he hadn't been violently abused or traumatized or attacked with homicidal intentions. They didn't look down on his pain as anything less than their own. Rather they surrounded him with empathy and Blair was amazed to find that his loneliness was abating.

"You'll never be lonely here, Blair," Joy said, as if reading his mind. She cupped her hands on either side of his face and turned his head toward hers. "I love you." She kissed him passionately and released him, but before he could recover Fawn and the rest of the group were coming forward to hug him and offer words of support.

"What's going on in there?" Blair asked, nodding his head toward a cabin that was emitting a strange clacking sound.

"Some of the girls are making clothing," Joy replied. "We have one woman who weaves on a loom. There's a farm nearby that donates some wool to us and then we have a store in town that lets us sell our clothes."

"Don't get me wrong, I think this whole arts and crafts venture is very admirable," Sandburg told her. "But does selling this stuff really make enough money to support all this?"

"Our income comes from various sources," she answered. "We get donations and we also sell some higher priced services."

"What kind of services?"

"We have one member who used to be an accountant, so around tax time he sells his services. And an electrician who does a lot of work for a bunch of non profit organizations around town. They get the work done at a reduced rate and he brings in his contribution."

"Well, if you have that kind of setup then why bother with the rest?"

"Because Merwan says everyone has a talent," Joy explained. "And everyone uses that talent to contribute to the group. Whether it's making clothing or jewelry or filling out somebody's tax form. The amount doesn't matter. What matters is that everyone does what they can do to contribute."

"What about me?" Blair teased her. "What kind of job would my talents land me?"

"That's for Merwan to decide," she answered loftily. "But I would say manning the vegetable stand along the highway."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, that or male stripper. It's a close call."

Joy shrieked as he came after her and started running with abandon toward the woods. Blair gaily gave chase, happy to follow wherever she led and feeling lighter than he had in a long, long time.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Blair said as he entered the main hall to find Joy stacking the folding chairs into piles against the wall.

"Well, now that you've found me, what are you going to do with me?" she teased him.

"Maybe, this." Blair kissed her gently, then again more firmly. "The bus is leaving soon and it's going to be a long ride back. I was hoping you'd share a seat with me and help pass the time."

He was joking, but her smiled faded and she pulled away from him.

"Actually, Blair, I've been meaning to tell you something. I'm not going back."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Merwan asked me to stay so I'm going to stay here for a few more days and help with some things around the camp. But I'll be back in the city later in the week and we can see each other then. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless you want to stay here with me."

"Stay here?" Blair thought about it, his mind coming up with a million reasons why he needed to get back to Cascade. "Joy, I can't..."

She stopped his words with a finger to his lips.

"Don't listen to your head, Blair. Listen to your heart. What do YOU want to do?"

Sandburg did listen, shutting out the rationales and the obligations, and for once focusing on what he wanted rather than what he needed to do. And he realized he did want to stay at the camp in the woods with the pretty, free spirited girl, at the place where he felt welcomed and appreciated and at home. The place where he felt loved. And after all, it was just for a few more days, right? Jim had made it quite clear he no longer wanted him around, and the mess of his life would still be there, waiting for him, later in the week. So before he faced it, why not spend a few more days in utopia?

"What are you thinking?" Merwan asked.

"Nothing." Blair looked up at the man in surprise, for his mind had always whirled around a mile a minute. But he'd spent a long, hard day helping at the camp, clearing brush and digging an area for the foundation of the new greenhouse that was planned. He was tired but happy and satisfied with his labor, and had been sitting on the porch of Merwan's cabin, enjoying a beautiful sunset, living in the moment and thinking about absolutely nothing.

"It's a good feeling, isn't it?"

"I guess Joy was right. She told me I'd clear my head up here. I just didn't know she meant literally." Blair chuckled, then sobered as he glanced over at the spiritual leader. "Actually, Merwan, I was thinking a lot about something earlier today."

"Tell me."

"Well, I've always believed that nothing happens randomly, you know? That everything happens for a reason, even if at the time you can't see what it is."

"But now you see your reason?"

"Yeah. When I tanked my career, I thought my life was over, you know. But now I'm thinking that maybe the reason that happened is because I wasn't happy with that life anymore. That I'm supposed to ditch the whole rat race and live a life devoted to harmony, peace and love."

"Blair, I would like to give you a new name," Merwan said suddenly. "You don't have to use it if you don't want to, but I'd like to give you one as a symbol."

"Um, ok," Sandburg agreed, more out of curiosity as to what the name would be than any real desire to be renamed.

"Stand up."

They both rose, and Merwan stood before him, reaching out to grip his upper arms.

"Blair Sandburg, the life that you knew has gone up in flames. But you have risen out of the ashes of that tragedy to become something even greater. Something stronger. A great force of good for the Fellowship of the Golden Earth. So because you have died and been reborn, your new name will be Phoenix."

"Phoenix," Blair repeated, holding back a grin. Died and reborn? Oh, Merwan had no idea. But he had to admit, the name suited him. "I like that."

"Then welcome, Phoenix. Welcome to the Fellowship," Merwan said fondly, pulling him into an affectionate hug, one which Blair warmly returned.

Jim Ellison flipped idly through the tv stations, his mind fully focused on the fact that it was Tuesday. Not in order to determine which of his favorite shows might be coming on, but rather his obsession with the day was due to the fact Blair had told him he would be back on Sunday. Two days late. Not really cause for panic, especially where Sandburg was concerned. But the sentinel couldn't help feeling a nagging sense of worry after the way they had left things. He'd been angry and as usual had blown his stack without thinking. But surely Blair knew it was just the patented Ellison tantrum, right? He knew that Jim didn't really mean any of it. Didn't he? Maybe not, the detective thought, leaning his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes, remembering that lost, empty look Sandburg had when he'd left. Did he really let his friend go off thinking that he hated him?

Jim sat up, turning off the tv and getting to his feet, knowing what he had to do. Find Sandburg, make sure he was ok, and straighten everything out. Of course, he didn't have the first clue where to find him, but he was a detective, after all. A damn good one. Which was why after about ten minutes he came up with his first and only lead. A card on Blair's desk for the Fellowship of the Golden Earth. Glancing at his watch he saw it was a little after nine. Probably too late to start his investigation proper, but with a shrug he figured it wouldn't hurt to just take a drive downtown and cruise by the place. Maybe he'd get lucky.

"I can't get over the change in you," Joy murmured, winding a finger through one of Blair's thick curls. "A week ago you were so lost, and now... You look happy."

"I am happy," Sandburg told her, glancing over to where she was cuddled up next to him in the grass. "You know, I can't even remember the last time I actually took the time to just watch the clouds pass by."

"If you want happiness in your life, you have to make time for it," she reminded him.

"I don't have to make time. That's all I want in my life from now on."

"What about me?" Joy teased.

"You are my happiness," he told her.

"I love you, Blair," she whispered, laying her head down on his chest.

"Yeah," Sandburg whispered back as he hugged her tightly. "I love you, too."

"Hey, Jim," Taggart greeted the detective, surprised to find him working at his desk. "What are you doing here, man? You're supposed to be out on leave until next week."

"Just a little personal business," Ellison replied absently, his attention focused on his computer screen.

"How's Blair doing?"

At that, Jim looked up at his colleague, hesitating as he considered what to tell him. Finally he decided on the truth.

"He's gone, Joel," the sentinel confessed. "He said it was just for the weekend but he never came home. We had this fight and I thought he was just mad at me, but I found this in his room."

He passed the small card to Taggart, who read the inscription and frowned.

"I've heard of them. Some kind of cult, right?"

"Yeah. I went by there and Blair's car is parked half a block from this place. I know he's been there, but the people I could get to talk to me all said they haven't seen him."

"I've read about these things," Joel mused. "They always take their new recruits somewhere isolated. Get them away from distractions so they can warp their minds to the cult's way of thinking."

"I'm checking into their assets now," Ellison told him. "Looking for some kind of building or land holdings..."

Taggart moved behind the detective, reading the screen over his shoulder as he continued the search. They both spotted the smoking gun at about the same moment.

"That's a big chunk of land," Joel commented. "They must have quite a spread up there. Do you know where this is?"

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find," Jim said as he shut down his computer and grabbed the jacket off the back of his chair.

"You want some company?"

Ellison paused, then looked evenly at his coworker.

"Yeah, I would. Thanks."

"All right, but if we get up there and Sandburg's bald and wearing a bed sheet, he's riding in the bed of the truck on the way back."

"Merwan?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"There are two policemen here. They're looking for Phoenix."

"Oh, man," Sandburg groaned, dropping a thick slice of bread back down to his plate. "That has to be Jim. I should have known he'd find me somehow. He's probably pissed because I haven't gone back to get my stuff out of his place yet."

"Stay here," Merwan commanded him. "I'll determine exactly what these officers want and I'll deal with them accordingly." He started for the cabin door, but turned back. "Have no fear, Phoenix. Trust in the earth spirits. You are safe here, my brother."

He exited and Joy slid closer to Blair, taking his hand.

"He's right," she assured him. "This is your sanctuary, Blair. Nobody is going hurt you here. We won't let them. Where are you going?"

"I'm not going out there," Sandburg told her. "But I have to hear what's going on."

Dinner forgotten, he left the table and crept over to the door, opening it just enough so that he could peak out. Jim was standing there, imposing, with folded arms and clenched jaw. Joel was a surprise, but the biggest shock was the transformation in Merwan. No longer charming and peaceful, his stance matched Jim's and there was an unfamiliar hard look on his face. Not just a leader in name only, he was protecting his disciple.

"Just give us Blair and we'll leave," Ellison was saying, although it was voiced as an order as opposed to a request.

"And what if he doesn't want to go with you?" Merwan challenged.

"Why don't you let us talk to Blair and he can decide that for himself?" Joel shot back.

"Blair is no longer here," Merwan told them. "He perished in a fire of the sadness and heartbreak of his old life. Phoenix rose from his ashes and has embraced a new life here with us. A life that you no longer have any part of."

"Listen to me, pal," Jim said angrily, taking a step toward the other man and being quickly restrained by Taggart. "You cut this mumbo jumbo crap and take us to Blair now, or I'll start tearing down this entire place until I find him."

"Not without a warrant, officer," Merwan said mockingly, giving them a smug smile.

"Oh, I've got your warrant right here," Ellison spat as he ripped his arm out of Joel's grasp.

"Jim, stop it," Blair called out as he stepped out of the cabin. The sentinel calmed down at the sight of him and the guide hesitated for a moment before he stepped off the porch and moved forward to stand beside Merwan. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here, Chief? The real question is what are you doing here?"

"Getting on with my life."

"You call this," Ellison said incredulously, sweeping an arm in the general vicinity of the camp, "getting on with your life?"

"Yes, I do," Sandburg confirmed adamantly, bristling at the detective's tone.

"All right, look, I know I was out of line," Jim offered up. "And I know you're pissed. But just come back with us, ok?"

"Come back to what?" The sentinel didn't answer and a flame of hot emotion began welling up inside of Blair. "Come back to WHAT, Jim?"

"Chief, come on..."

"Don't call me that," Sandburg snapped.

"What am I supposed to call you?" Ellison asked sarcastically. "Phoenix?"

"Don't you dare mock me," Blair seethed hotly.

"All right, I'm sorry."

"And don't patronize me, either!"

"Well what the hell do you want me to do?" the sentinel demanded.

"Just go home, Jim."

"Not without you."

Blair was quiet, but Merwan reached out to put an arm around his shoulders and all the other members who had gathered to watch the spectacle moved in closer to him, surrounding him with their support.

"I am home," Sandburg said quietly.

It was at that moment that Jim began to realize how serious Blair was and how deeply he had wounded his friend.

"Please, Chi... Blair," he began sincerely. "We need to talk. Just come back with us and we'll talk it out, ok? Then if you want to come back here after, I'll bring you back, I promise. But you have to hear me out..."

The circle of support around Sandburg began closing in, forming a shield around him as they began escorting him away. When Jim realized what they were doing, he swore and started after them, only be restrained once more by Taggart.

"Take it easy," Joel warned his colleague. "They may be a bunch of freaks but they're protected under law as a religious organization. Persecute them and it'll mean your job."

"I know, but you saw what they..."

"Yeah, I saw," Taggart affirmed, looking hard at Ellison. "I saw how they have Blair all turned around. And I also saw that he's licking some pretty deep wounds. How bad was this fight you had, anyway?"

"Bad enough," Jim muttered. "But it doesn't matter now. He's never going to listen to me as long as these nutjobs keep filling his head with lies. We have to get him away from them somehow."

"Don't look at me," Joel shrugged. "You're the expert in covert ops."

"Yeah," Ellison sighed. "But I have a feeling there's going to be a bomb to defuse before this is over."

"Come in," Blair called out in response to the knock on the door. When the camp was full, he had been bunking with several other people, but as only a few members remained during the week, he'd enjoyed having the cabin all to himself.

"Greetings, Phoenix," Merwan said softly as he entered. "Are you all right? Joy told me you seemed upset."

"No, not really," Sandburg assured his leader. "It's just that..."

"Go on."

"I've been doing some meditating and I'm starting to think that maybe I should have gone with Jim. Not to stay," he added hastily. "But maybe I should have agreed to hear him out. I mean, he's never wanted to talk about anything before. I was thinking he hated me, but if he did why would he have come all the way up here to find me? I thought our friendship was dead, but maybe there's something there to be saved after all."

"Or maybe it's as you said, and he just wants you to come back for closure. So he can formally and finally evict you from his life."

"But..."

"Blair, why do I get the feeling that this wouldn't be the first second chance you've given Jim?" Merwan asked gently. "Or even the second or third?"

"Yeah, he's screwed up a lot, but so have I," Sandburg protested. "And anyway, isn't forgiveness part of our philosophy?"

"Of course it is," Merwan agreed. "And I think you should absolutely forgive Jim for everything. But the thing is, my Phoenix, that forgiveness means letting go of all the pain he's ever caused you. It does not mean you have to set yourself up for more hurt and rejection. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I guess," Blair sighed.

"Good." The spiritual leader hugged him. "May the spirits of the earth help you find peace tonight. I love you, my brother."

"Yeah, me too," Sandburg murmured.

Merwan left him and Blair began to contemplate his words, feeling more confused and unsettled than he had since he'd first arrived at the camp. Deciding to follow his leader's advice and let the spirits of the earth guide him, Sandburg slipped out of his cabin and headed off for the woods, hoping a long walk in the cold night air under the moonlight would lead him to peace.

"He's moving," Jim informed his companion.

"Where's he going?"

"Believe it or not, he's heading this way," the sentinel conveyed. And he had to admit it was something of a relief to be able to use his abilities openly, without having to try to hide or explain away what he was doing. Not that he wanted to go public, by any means, but it was a weight off to unburden his secret to the people he worked so closely with every day. "And get this. He's alone."

"This is going to be easier than we thought," Taggart enthused. Their plan had been to wait in the woods surrounding the camp until the wee hours and then sneak inside the perimeter and attempt a daring intervention rescue. But now it appeared that Sandburg was going to walk right into their hands.

"You sure you want to do this?"

"No," Joel replied. "But you can't handle him on your own with that leg. Just make sure he knows it was your idea."

"I'll tell him I forced you. Come on, let's go."

"He will thank us for this when it's over, right?" Taggart whispered as they exited the truck and began creeping down the old logging road that ran behind the camp. Fortunately for the one without sentinel abilities, the full moon provided enough illumination that enhanced sight was not necessary.

"Either thank us or take our badges," Ellison said glumly.

"Well, what the hell? Early retirement just leaves more time for fishing."

"Good point. Now get ready. We're about to hook us a whopper."

Blair was lost in thought and didn't sense the danger until it was too late. Something unseen plowed into him, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down. A shot of fear ran through him as his first thought was that a bear or a cougar had attacked him. And by the time he realized what was happening, his hands were already securely handcuffed behind his back. He knew it was useless to put up a fight but he did so anyway, swearing and kicking as Jim and Joel dragged him between them back to the truck. But once he was shoved inside the cab and firmly sandwiched between two burly men he knew it was over. So he settled down and quietly seethed, and it was a long, silent drive back to Cascade.

Taggart was standing at the two way glass, looking into the interview room, and Ellison came up to join him. They had decided that Joel would get Blair settled in one of the rooms at the station and give him a break from Jim for a few minutes so that they both could calm down and clear their heads before they began talking. Provided, of course, they could get Sandburg to talk.

"He say anything to you?" Jim asked, sipping at the cup of coffee in his hands.

"Not a peep," Joel answered. "Hope you have better luck."

"Yeah, me, too." Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Ellison opened the door and entered the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Blair glared daggers at him, but when the detective set his coffee mug down and held up his hand to display a small key dangling from his fingers, the younger man grudgingly stood up and turned around. "Are you ok?" Jim asked him as he unlocked the cuffs. "We didn't hurt you, did we?"

"That's funny, Jim," Sandburg said coldly, rubbing his chaffed wrists as he slid back down into the chair. "I told you I didn't want to come back here, and instead of listening to me and respecting my wishes, you attack me, handcuff me and drag me back here anyway. And now you're worried about hurting me."

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to let you sit up there and rot your brain at that camp with those fanatics."

"Let me?" Blair squeaked indignantly. "You don't decide what I do or don't do, Ellison. And those fanatics are my friends."

"Friends that want you to be a mindless zombie," Jim argued as he sat down across the table. "You're too good for what they want to turn you into, Chief."

"Damn it, I told you not to call me that!"

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not going to start calling you Phoenix."

A change suddenly came over Blair and for a moment Ellison thought he was having some sort of waking seizure. Then he realized the kid was tuning him out.

"What is this?" Jim demanded. "You're ignoring me? Pretending I'm not even here?" The blank stare and lack of response began to incense the sentinel. "Sandburg, you should know by now you can't ignore me. Damn it, look at me!" He gave his guide a small shake but it was as if Blair were zoned. "Don't test me!" The coffee mug went flying against the wall, shattering into a million shards and spattering brown liquid all over the floor. "I will make you hear me, damn it!" Ellison rose with such force that his chair flew backward and tipped over, crashing to the floor.

"Jim!" Taggart stuck his head in through the door. "I need to see you out here for a minute."

"For what?" the detective growled, not taking his eyes away from Sandburg's blank stare. But when he got no answer he glanced at Joel, reading the look on his face. "This isn't over, Chief. Not by a long shot."

Rising, he left the room, slamming the door behind him and meeting Taggart in the hallway.

"Why did you pull me out of there?"

"I'm just doing my job," Joel told him. "You know, diffusing that bomb before it explodes."

"Taggart, it's after midnight and I'm too tired for riddles. Just tell me what you're trying to say."

"You're being a little hard on Sandburg, don't you think?"

"Well, look at him!" Ellison snapped. "What else am I supposed to do? It's like talking to a damn brick wall."

"Yeah, but you aren't going to bust that wall down by bullying him. Blair's spent enough time here to know how this works. And he's not going to fall for your little bad cop routine."

"You're right," Jim sighed, calming down. "All right, I'll kill the violence and try to reason with him. Providing I can get him to acknowledge my existence."

"By the way," Joel called after him as he headed back to the interrogation room. "We just got a report from the Fellowship of the Golden Earth about a missing person. Description sounds a lot like Sandburg."

"What do we do about that?"

"As acting supervisor until Simon gets back, it's my duty to see that the case receives the proper attention, right?" Taggart said with a wink.

"Thanks, Joel." Taking another deep breath, Ellison opened the door to the interrogation room and readied himself for round two. Blair was still tuned out to him, but listening in on his heartbeat, the sentinel heard it quicken ever so slightly when he walked in. So he knew it wasn't any kind of trance or meditative state, but that Sandburg was just doing a hell of a job of ignoring him. So he sat back down across from his friend, drumming his fingers on the table for long minutes before he finally spoke. "You know, I never would have pegged you for a guy who would run away from his problems."

Blair stiffened slightly, and his eyes focused once more as they narrowed and gazed at the detective.

"Maybe I'm not running away," he suggested coldly. "Maybe I'm running to something."

"What are you running to?"

"A better life."

"Come on, Sandburg," Ellison snorted, rolling his eyes. "Your new friends are a damn cult. It amazes me that someone with your brains can't see that."

"Just because they don't conform to your standards of society doesn't make them wrong, you know," Blair argued. "These are good people, Jim. They love each other and they share everything and they try to make the world a better place."

"You honestly think that your leader isn't profiting from this scheme?"

"No. Merwan doesn't have anything more than anybody else."

"Yeah, well I'd be willing to wager a lot that if we checked his financial records you'd see that isn't true. And what they call 'making the world a better place' is all one big recruiting scam."

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about," Blair protested. "They work with the homeless and tutor disadvantaged kids in the neighborhood. When I met Joy she was at the hospital donating toys for the kids, for crying out loud!"

"Yeah, and all of those people are their primary targets. Homeless people with nowhere else to go, disadvantaged kids who don't get love from anywhere else, and people at hospitals who are dealing with tragedies and looking for answers. Happy, well adjusted people just aren't as easy to brainwash."

"Why are you doing this?" Blair whispered.

"I'm trying to help you, Sandburg," Jim told him. "Before you get in deeper than you can dig your way out of."

"So what if I do?" Blair burst out. "It's my life, Jim, to do whatever the hell I want with it. If I want to screw it up royally, it's my choice. I can join a cult, or even the damn circus if I want! You have no say in what I do. And furthermore, I know my rights. We both know you're holding me here illegally and I want to go. So just let me out now, and I won't press any felony kidnaping charges."

Ellison stood up and gazed stoically down at the younger man.

"Can the threats, Chief," he said quietly. "Because I'm not a cop tonight. I'm going to get you some food and a pillow or something so you can get a little sleep. Maybe then you'll be thinking clearly enough to see reason." He left the room, and again met Taggart in the hallway. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you're looking at me like a dog that just peed on the rug."

"You're not getting through to him."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"You need to get it together, Jim. Quit strongarming him and just talk to him. We can't keep him here much longer, and if you can't convince him that he's better off here, then you're going to lose him to those whackos."

"I know, Joel," the sentinel said wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face. "But I think he needs a little break from me right now. Do me a favor, would you, and get him something to eat? I'm going to go get some air." And try to figure out how to tell my best friend he's wanted, Jim thought to himself, before I lose him to the first people who can.

Several hours passed before Jim returned to the interrogation room. A cot had been brought in, but Sandburg remained rigidly seated in the hard chair, the deli sandwich untouched on the table in front of him.

"Hunger and sleep strike?" Jim questioned. "Pretty juvenile, don't you think?" But then the sentinel grinned. "And probably exactly what I would do. Show of stubborn defiance in the face of the enemy."

Blair relaxed slightly at that, as if reassured that round three wasn't going to start on a confrontational note. He looked up at the detective and voiced the question that had been on his mind.

"Since when do you ever stop being a cop?"

"When I'm being your friend," Ellison answered softly. He moved over to the table, taking the chair next to Sandburg as opposed to the one across from him. "And I guess I tend to lose sight of that, a lot more than I should. I'm sorry for that, Blair. I've been thinking, and I've realized that whether or not this organization is a cult doesn't matter. The truth is, you never would have gone there in the first place if I hadn't made you feel rejected, right?"

Blair shrugged noncommittaly.

"I got a phone call the morning you left," the detective continued. "Remember? It was my father. He called to tell me that Sally was in the hospital. Some tabloid maggot followed her from my father's house and cornered her at the market, trying to get her story, and she fell trying to get away from him."

"Is she all right?" Blair asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah, she'll be fine. Just some bad bruises. But the fact that some scumbag would do that to my family, just to try to get to me... it had me seeing red, Chief."

"Jim, I'm sorry about Sally," Sandburg began, not unkindly. "And I'm sorry this all happened to you and your family. But frankly, I'm tired of you always taking your anger out on me. Ok, in a way I was responsible, but if you had just told me what was going on instead of just lashing out at me and making me think you hated me, we wouldn't be here now."

"I was out of line and I apologize," Ellison told him quietly, the hurt in his friends words hitting him hard. "I know I acted like an ass that day and never should have let you leave like you did, but did you honestly believe that I hated you?"

"At the time, yeah," Blair confessed uncomfortably. "Maybe not me, personally, but I felt like you resented the hell out of the idea of me. Deep down... well, deep down I know you care about me, man. But the thing is, you can care about something and still outgrow it. You know, love the nostalgia of something long after the need for it is gone."

"But I'm not a five year old and you're not a teddy bear," the detective pointed out, not accepting the analogy. "And I do need you. Not as a partner, and not for help with my senses. I need YOU. What we've been through together over the last few years is not something you can outgrow."

"But that's the trouble, Jim," Blair argued. "All that we've been through, yeah, it bonded us. But it also created a whole bunch of problems. It used to be so easy between us, remember? But it hasn't been easy for a long time. We've been going through the motions, but there's lots of things in the way now. We both have a lot to answer for, and a simple 'I'm sorry' is not going to fix this mess we're in. I don't want to sound like some new age shrink, but we've both got issues, Jim. Unresolved anger, guilt, grief... whatever. And things are never going to be right between us until we deal with all that. It won't be easy, but I don't see any other way for us to move on."

"What if..." the sentinel trailed off, clearing his throat and turning his head slightly to stare at the wall. "What if we try and find out we can't resolve things? Can't get past the past, so to speak?"

"It's a risk we have to take," Sandburg shrugged. "We're self destructing here, Jim. And the friendship we had isn't going to survive this avoidance and suppression dance we've been doing. We don't have a choice unless we want to just call it quits and part amicably now. I mean, I'd always be there for you, Jim, to help with your senses whenever you needed it. But maybe it's better to go our separate ways now as friends than to drag it out to the point where we do end up hating each other, you know?"

Ellison sighed and turned his gaze back to his friend, studying him thoughtfully. Blair was staring down at the table top, tracing absent circles with his fingertips across the smooth surface. His demeanor was neutral, almost bored, as if he didn't care one way or the other about the outcome of their relationship. So either he really was done with his old life and fixated on his future as Phoenix, the disciple to the band of crazies, or else...

"What do you want to do, Chief?" Jim asked him quietly.

"When has it ever mattered what I wanted?" Blair muttered.

"I deserved that," Ellison acknowledged. "Look, I know I haven't always been the best friend..."

"You have, Jim," Sandburg interrupted him. His voice was unfeeling and his face was stony, but emotion swirled behind his clear blue eyes. "You've always been the best friend I've ever had. You just made mistakes. So have I. Doesn't make us bad friends, just human."

Jim glanced away again, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard. He was sure of it now. Blair thought their friendship was over. That the sentinel wasn't willing to put in the time and effort it was going to take to heal them. That he didn't care enough to try to change and adjust to their new situation. And, Ellison realized with a twinge of shame, he couldn't blame his friend for thinking the way he did and not giving him the benefit of the doubt. It was his own fault that they'd sunk this far, thanks to the fear of intimacy he denied and the vaulted emotions he so zealously guarded. And now it was up to him to fix it by embracing that intimacy and opening that vault. The thought made him uncomfortable... hell, it scared the crap out of him. But he had to do it. Blair at least deserved that much.

"Ok, you're right," the sentinel began again, gazing earnestly at his guide. "I've made some mistakes. I've been selfish in not taking your feelings into account when I should have. Throughout this whole mess, I was only thinking of myself and how my life was impacted. I never even stopped to think about what it meant for you and your life and your career. That you were hurt and messed up by it all, too. And I did take my anger out on you. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry for that. And honestly, it makes me sick to think I let you believe that..." Ellison had to pause to clear his throat. "I could never hate you. You've always been invaluable to me, Blair, and not just because of the sentinel thing. That's why I did what I did that day at the fountain. I didn't have any other choice because I couldn't imagine my life without you in it. I never, ever want to know what that's like."

"Do you really mean that?" Blair whispered, glancing up at his sentinel cautiously.

"Of course I do, Chief," Jim whispered back, the raw, honest emotion shining damply from his blue eyes. "And that's why I need you here with me. I don't know about the world as a whole, but you make my corner of it a better place and I love you for that."

"So you do want to try and fix things between us?" Sandburg pressed, needing absolute clarification.

"We're going to do more than just try," Ellison told him confidently. "We are going to find a way to get through this mess and move on. I know it won't be easy, and I can't guarantee that I won't keep making mistakes. But I'm going to try, Blair. I know you aren't some tagalong kid anymore. You've earned and deserve respect and consideration and I'm going to do my best to give you that."

"That means a lot to me, Jim," Blair said slowly. "But... I just don't know where I fit into your life anymore."

"I don't either," the sentinel admitted. "I won't lie and say I know how to automatically fix everything. But we can figure it out together and it will be something we'll both be happy with. We'll find a fit, Chief, I promise you that."

"Jim, I...." Blair trailed off, closing his eyes. "I can't promise you anything."

"I don't want you to," Ellison told him. "All I want from you is a little time. So we can talk things out and figure out where to go from here. And whatever you decide you want to do, I'll support you. If you really can't find a fit in my life, then I'll do my best to fit into yours. As long as you still want me around."

Sandburg slumped down to the tabletop, cushioning his head in his folded arms with a sigh. Long, silent moments passed before he turned his head slightly, peeking up at the sentinel through the mass of curls obscuring his face.

"Of course I want you around, you big jerk," he mumbled, before sitting back up and leaning back in his chair, folding his arms. "You piss me off, royally, but I love you, too, and I'm willing to try and work something out."

"Does that mean you'll come home?"

"Yes."

"That's OUR home, right? To the loft?"

"Yes."

The sentinel's grin lit up the room and his guide couldn't ignore the infectiousness of it and responded with one of his own. He started leaning in for a hug, but stopped himself as something occurred to him.

"Joel's watching us through the window, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Better keep this manly, then." Sandburg reached out and punched his friend lightly on the arm. Ellison responded in kind, although his seemed to be not quite as light. "Ow!"

"See what happens when you leave me," the sentinel teased him. "My sense of touch gets all out of whack."

"So does your sense of humor," Blair responded dryly. "How about taste? You want half of this?" he asked, waving at the untouched sandwich on the table in front of him.

"It's only right," Jim told him, reaching for his half. "In our society, we share everything."

"I'll remember that next time I want to borrow your truck."

"Vehicles are exempt, Reverend Moon."

Joy left the temple with the intention of following the others to the waiting bus. But something caught her eye and she turned to see Blair waiting for her a few feet down the street. Knowing they would wait for her, she left the line and walked over to him.

"Hi."

"Hi," she greeted in kind. "All you all right?"

"Yeah," Blair told her. "I'm good."

"I heard you're back at the police station."

"No, not officially," he explained. "But the captain's working on a few angles and thinks he might be able to get me a job. Consultant or profiler or something. Basically just doing what I did before, only with a paycheck this time."

"And that's really what you want?" Joy asked doubtfully. "To go back to that life?"

"Yeah, it is," Sandburg answered. And he meant it. Things weren't perfect between he and Jim yet, but they were getting there. After a lot of talking and apologizing and amending errant ways on both their parts, the easiness had returned, they were closer than ever, and things were almost like they had been before. And Blair found he was eagerly awaiting confirmation of his new position, excited of the prospect of working with his friends in the MCU, utilizing his special skills and making a vital contribution to the pursuit of justice while still avoiding the pitfalls that would come with being a deputized officer. And strangely, the peace that he'd found during his brief time in the loving embrace of the retreat in the woods had not diminished. On the contrary, he felt more at peace with himself, his life, his future, and his standing with Jim and his role as the sentinel's guide than ever. "I guess we each have our own definition of utopia. And if I'm being honest with myself, this is it for me."

"I hate to say it, but you do look happy."

"I am happy. But I'd be happier if I knew that we could still be a part of each other's lives. You were there for me when I really needed someone, and I care a lot about you, Joy."

"I know," she murmured. "And I do love you. I could live in your world, or you could live in mine. But the two don't mesh, they collide. You'll never be happy being Phoenix, and I'll never be happy being Judith. I hate it, but we each have to do what's best for ourselves and stay true to ourselves."

"Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that."

"I have to go, Blair. The bus is waiting for me."

"Joy? This new, understanding we have here... That doesn't mean I couldn't drop in the temple from time to time to say 'hello' does it?"

"You'd better drop in," she smiled. "Or else I'll have to find some way to get myself arrested so I can see you." Joy leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips. "Goodbye, Blair."

"Bye," he murmured, watching her turn and walk off to the bus. Once she boarded, he climbed into the Volvo and fired it up. It had been an interesting experience, one that he didn't regret and one that had helped him find sanity within the turmoil. But ultimately, life at the camp just wasn't for him. Generic group love was nice, but he preferred the love and acceptance of one sentinel. Who he was already ten minutes late in meeting. But he wasn't worried. If anything had come out of this whole mess, it was the proof that Jim just couldn't stay mad at him for long.

And so, uplifted by the rare sunny day, Blair drove off to meet his friend, the tune of 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' whistling from his lips.

The End

The Sandburg Zone

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